


to which i now yield

by kimaracretak



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Gags, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, mildly unhealthy relationship, on offering and owning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/pseuds/kimaracretak
Summary: (hide or beseech / am i the relish in this written story): It wasn't aboutliking, Angela had wanted to say, butwanting. But in Ana's office, breath and bravery both exhausted for the night, she couldn't find the words.Or; In which Angela is an offering and Ana makes a choice about desire





	to which i now yield

**Author's Note:**

> shows up 2 fandom years late with coffee and femslash #your skin suits you best smut and no apologies
> 
> for the overwatch kinkmeme prompt: Angela has nursed a huge crush on Ana for years and she finally overcomes her fear of being rejected and just flat out offers herself in a "Do whatever you want with me" virgin sacrifice to the monster way. Ana is in control and has a wolfish smile but Mercy is the one getting all the pleasure.
> 
> title + summary quote from xandria, 'little red relish'

The cotton of her thin white dress is cool under Angela's fingers as she smooths the fabric over her hip. Not fidgeting, she thinks, shivering in the cool air of the hallway. _Preparing_.

( _You would not like what we would be_ , Ana had said yesterday, the faint sheen of Angela's lipgloss still clinging hypnotically to her mouth.

It wasn't about _liking_ , Angela had wanted to say, but _wanting_. But in Ana's office, breath and bravery both exhausted for the night, she couldn't find the words.

Which leads her to now: alone in front of Ana's door, hem of her dress just long enough to obscure her complete lack of underwear, loose hair pulled over her shoulders to hide already stiff nipples.

 _It doesn't matter what we are_ , she'd said in too many dreams. In other dreams, the best dreams, Ana doesn't let her speak at all.)

She's so caught up in checking her dress that she almost doesn't notice the door opening until she hears Ana's voice. "What do ... oh, _Angela_."

Angela's eyes dart upward, and if her name in _that_ tone of voice — exhaustion-rough and surprised and just a little bit expectant — hadn't been enough to make her whole body flush with _want_. Ana's in leggings and a loose t-shirt, her hair loosely braided and draped over her shoulder. For a moment Angela almost feels bad for coming to her so late, but she can't bring herself to regret the sight of her.

"Hi," Angela says, and then nothing else. She hadn't quite thought this far ahead — had, on some level, hoped that her presence and her dress would be enough, that Ana would know what to do with her and she wouldn't have to ask. She can feel herself blushing, the heat of Ana's gaze enough to light a fire under her skin.

"Angela ... come inside."

She doesn't quite reply _yes, ma'am_ , but it's close.

 

**

 

Ana's rooms are larger than Angela's own, and sparsely decorated, but Ana inhabits the space with a grace and presence Angela wants to drown in.

"Angela," Ana says again. She's hardly audible over the sound of the lock chiming, but Angela thinks that whatever happens next, this night was worth it just to hear Ana say her name so many times. "You need to understand what you're asking for."

"I do," Angela says quickly. "Last night —"

 _Anything_ , she'd said, and hoped for one desperate moment desire might win over the pity in Ana's eyes. But she'd meant it.

"I don't think you do," Ana murmurs. Angela holds her breath as Ana slowly circles the room to stand behind her. She can feel Ana's eyes on her, lingering on her neck, her ass. "But I do not think you would mind, if you did." . "But I do not think you would mind, if you did."

Angela licks her lips. "I meant it," she says, her voice smaller than she's ever heard it. " _Captain_."

And finally, _finally_ Ana touches her, sinks her nails into her hips and pulls Angela back against her body. Ana's nails aren't sharp, but Angela imagines she can feel them sinking into her skin anyway, and can't help the small, eager noise that escapes her lips.

"I need you to know," Ana says, as if she hadn't heard anything at all, "That if we do this ... _now_ , this is all we will ever be."

Later, Angela will think back to this moment and hear the unusual weight behind Ana's words, will think that maybe she didn't understand everything she was agreeing to after all. But in the moment, when all she can think is that _ever_ means _again_ , all she say is, "I do know, _please_ , Ana."

Ana spins her around and steps back, and the sudden loss of support has Angela stumbling to regain her balance. When she looks up again it's to Ana's patient regard, cold but not unkind. "Show me, then."

Angela can guess easily enough what she wants to see. The dress comes off in one swift movement, and Angela waits in silence as Ana takes in her newly bare flesh. The air is cool on her hot skin, and Angela knows she's very much on display.

She wouldn't trade that feeling for the world.

"What am I to do with you, then?" Ana asks almost rhetorically, trailing her hand down Angela's arm and ghosting her fingertips over the soft skin at the inside of her wrist. "Let you worship me, the way you so foolishly want to? Tie you down and fuck you until you can't think?

Overwhelmed by the reality of the suggestions and Ana's hand on her bare skin, all Angela can do is nod.

Ana sighs. "I would tell you to use your words, but I'm beginning to think you like this better. You really did mean _anything_ , didn't you?"

"Yes," Angela says, voice barely a whisper. Naked in Ana's room, her dress in a pile at her feet, Ana really _could_ do anything to her. The thought has her pressing her thighs together in a vain attempt to hide how wet she already is, but the sensation of damp curls brushing the tops of her thighs does nothing to make her less eager.

"Well." Ana smiles, wide enough to show her teeth, and Angela thinks she should be much more scared of that smile than she actually is. On Ana it's a look of conquest, and all it does is make Angela's knees weak, make her want to lie back and just let Ana _take_. "On the bed with you, then. And close your eyes."

Angela nearly hesitates at half the thought that she'll stain the sheets already, but there's no denying Ana's tone of voice, or the way her eyes linger just long enough on Angela's crotch to let her _know_ she knows just how eager she is.

 

**

 

Cross-legged on the bed, eyes shut against the urge to press her aching cunt into the mattress in search of something, _anything_ to relieve the need building in her blood, higher and higher by the second. The rest of her senses pick up in response: she can feel the soft sheets underneath her growing sticky with arousal, smell a sweet, vaguely spicy incense she hadn't noticed earlier. She can hear Ana moving, the quiet sounds of her bare feet, a louder creaking and rustling as she retrieves something from a drawer.

The bed shifts under new weight, and Angela can feel the warmth of Ana's body behind her. She tenses with anticipation, but the touch she expects — Ana's breasts against her back, or maybe Ana's hands on her arms — doesn't come. Instead, Ana reaches over her shoulders, and Angela feels the press of cool leather against her mouth.

She doesn't need to see to know that it's gag, and can't suppress the full-body shiver of excitement that runs through her.

"You said anything," Ana reminds her, though she sounds more amused than serious. "Last chance, Angela. Open your eyes. See what you're wanting."

Angela opens her eyes to find the lights in the room dimmer than they had been. Not dim enough to hide the gag Ana's presented her with, detailed black leather with shining silver buckles. There's a brief tinge of regret at the thought that this must mean Ana won't kiss her, but it's tempered by the excitement of the knowledge that Ana's not only accepted this, but taken control.

Accepted _her_.

Taken control of _her_.

And all she says is, "please."

"You're beautiful like this," Ana murmurs, stroking her cheek from skin to leather back to skin. It's tender, almost oddly so, but then Ana's in front of her, hands firm on her shoulders. "Lay back, Angela."

She does, too eagerly, her head hitting the firm pillow with slightly more force than she meant. The shock radiates down her spine, a perfect mirror of Ana's finger tracing a line from the hollow of her throat to the top of her curls, and Angela moans happily behind her gag.

"Good girl," Ana says, and Angela watches her shift to straddle her knees. The fabric of Ana's leggings is almost rough against her sensitive skin, and Angela wriggles happily under her. "So eager," Ana laughs, and pinches a nipple, grinning when Angela bucks up into the touch. "And _so_ responsive. I hardly know where to start."

 _Anywhere_ , Angela thinks, or, _anything_ , but all she can do is make muffled noises of encouragement.

She doesn't know if Ana understood, or if she just wants to explore, but Ana pinches the other nipple, and Angela throws her head back against the pillow as pleasure washes over her. Without the gag, she thinks, she would be _screaming_ , and the thought of anyone else on the base hearing her — _knowing_ how thoroughly Ana had claimed her — is almost enough to make her come all on its own.

"You like the pain, hm?" Ana asks, but she's not paying attention to Angela's frantic nod, focusing instead on dragging her nails down Angela's ribs, her stomach, until she flicks roughly at her clit.

Ana's weight on her legs is the only thing that stops her from arching all the way off the bed in pleasure.

Ana laughs again, and, _oh_ , Angela thinks, that's going to be a problem later when she'll hear Ana laugh and only be able to think of _now_ , of Ana saying, "Enough teasing, I think," and sliding three fingers inside her.

As wet and ready as she is, three of Ana's fingers — long, careful, sniper's fingers — are still a _lot_ , and Angela can feel tears welling at the corners of her eyes. Ana doesn't notice, or maybe she just takes it as encouragement, and Angela knows she's not going to last, just bucks helplessly into Ana's hand as the tears start to leak down her cheeks.

It's too much in the best way, Ana still smiling down at her half a threat and half a promise as she fucks her, and Angela bites at the unyielding leather and thinks _please, please_.

It's an eternity and no time at all before she's proven right, before Ana's pinching her clit nearly as hard as she'd pinched at her nipples mere minutes ago, and even the gag can't entirely muffle Angela's scream as she comes.

Ana fucks her through it, her thighs tight around Angela's quivering legs, on and _on_ until Angela can't tell if her body's lost in one long orgasm or several, until she's so far into pain that she would beg Ana to stop if she could speak, if she could remember how to want to be anything other than _this_.

By the time Ana finally withdraws her fingers, Angela's a mess on the bed beneath her, boneless with the pleasure-pain of desire, breathing harder than she ever has after training, eyes fluttering shut in exhausted contentment.

"Next time," Ana says as she leans over to start unbuckling the gag, and Angela thinks it's unfair that she still sounds as composed as if nothing had happened. "Will you come to me just like this next time? With the dress? With the same desire?"

Angela sits up slowly as Ana moves off of her, pretends to consider her answer even though nothing Ana had said was truly a question. She looks at the pile of leather on the bed next to them, shiny with her spit and her come where Ana's fingers have stained the straps.

"Anything," she says, as if there was ever another answer.

There's something almost melancholy in Ana's eyes when she smiles this time, but her grin is still a predator's grin, and still sends a shot of arousal straight to Angela's core.

 _Next time_.

Again.

And for every time after.


End file.
